GUILT
by Tala1
Summary: GUILT. The beginning of lord's day to the final days of their rein. Though they are nothing but mindless tools of destruction, these infections, too, try to survive in a world that detests their very existence.
1. Lords Day

A/N: I like trauma Center…Just some fun experimenting to describe GUILT. If it gets some positive reviews I'll post them all. i did this awhile ago so i can't explain WTTH I was thinking then...

Disclaimer: I don't own Trauma Center UtK or SO

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**Lord's Day**

It never knew when 'it' was born, crossing from liquid to solid states in the form of a small tadpole. Wielding nothing more then a sixth sense of belonging in the body and an instinct to defend it territory from invaders—its home. The creature moved swiftly in its confinements, slow coming to celebrate its birth, one of many distinct to its nature led to seek and destroy. Other joined, wriggling their frail bodies much smaller than it through the designated organ creating lacerations with every straight swim. The tips of their bodies caught on the fragile skin above, hooking it like a fishing bait and leading it afar to tear and bleed nutrients.

For minutes they enjoyed their prison, unable to grasp the concept of another world aside from paradise, which they swam in with determination. Like sharks of kin they took no more than a second glance to one another, ignoring the difference of change and danced together. Rubbing bodies solidly against one another as they plunged in and out of the human tissue, feeding like carnivorous monsters at a feast fit for a lord. In a way 'it' could assume it was a lord, retaining memory of being the birth of a beginning.

No, it could not hear and see but instinct of mans creation told it so. As such it acted upon its reasoning's, increasing its rampant slaughter of its host draining the life force little by little. The smaller versions looked to it as a leader, mimicking the bashings against the enclosed walls keeping it from other vital areas beyond the layers positioned as gates. Angry with this the tadpole dug furiously and hid in the blood, alone. Waiting for the next moment to attack.

Though it had no eyes it sensed the mini 'its' growing restless. They swam feverishly against the currents of red fluid, frantic in their sanctuary alarming it to stop and reverse its path to confront this 'thing' that dared to intrude. Soon the fluid ceased its rhythmic flows founded only by the constant movement of its brothers and sisters. It lay dormant with the organ moving once again without its consent. Possessing no eye it could not see the fine bits of what once remained drizzling down, nor hear the strangled cries as the babies writhed against mans power and evaporated. The holes previously made to bleed agony were finely stitched together to clot and recover.

It stirred anger in the virus causing it to lurch out of hiding and snap at attention. The gasp from man unlike it was deaf to it—all but the presence of a mightier 'threat' that deemed it necessary to destroy its home.

Coming out from the shallow skin a cross of lacerations were made, going unnoticed in its meaning as the 'thing' stitched and repaired the wounds faster then it could make them. It burrowed at the sudden prick of something hot, learning but not able to register it as pain. Fleeing to the safety of its host's internal organ it swam back and forth in a constantly altered pattern to avoid further hostilities.

Why?

If 'it' had the ability it may have questioned why its habitat, its existence was damned to never succeed. Where was 'he'? The man…yes man who bore them. By being created man meant it was no less than a baby and here, living proof, that what man created it destroyed. It fueled the rage of its father continued its efforts, redoubling them. The small manmade creature cried unknowingly, finding voice as something sharp dug it out of the fluids and forced it to run blindly on the surface. In defense it made a deep cut and sought shelter mindlessly.

Another wave of undistinguishable sensations forced it back under. Several times did the process repeat itself, the vicious stabs and sudden unbearable temperatures forcing the creature to remain in the eyes of man. Limply it slowed ever so slowly and curled in on itself giving into what man desire. 'It' knew others like it would flourish, that the one whom bore it would never be stopped and with final piercing sound it evaporated at the fine touches of a man weapon.

Kyriaki the first of the lord born to end man from purifying sickness, died.

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A/N: Kyriaki has to be my most favorite of all strains. It's easy and fun. What I tried to describe was the sense of it being the 'birth' of all strains, the 'baby' with a need for it to be 'self' defensive and protect itself, hence the lacerations and baby forms. It might sound savage but when threatened many life forms administer the same potential to fight back. This one was A LOT easier then the future GUILT centering. If you didn't get it--I didn't either (and I wrote it _; sorry)

Basically a different take on something thats very....unusual to describe. It cannot speak. Cannot see. Doesn't possess emotion, but exists.


	2. Second Day

A/N: Trauma Center! Hail Victor/Derek, Derek/Greg, Sidney/Victor Eeee

Disclaimer: Don't own Trauma Center UtK or SO

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**Second Day**

**Why did man wish to destroy what it created? It savagely beat at death doors, angry and protesting their futility to contradict the plagues of 'disease' which existed long before speech and individuality struck the planet. One however, embraced this notion as a blessing and cradled it to his body. Known as thy father on the second day he created another strange life form. By now though, he had a name.**

_Guilt. A contradiction in itself born into halves of different elements never whole unless struck together in a whirling tide. They would spin and disagree like siblings over the smallest things of what each preferred at the time of the clash. They spat, fought, ripped, and tore at their other selves without mercy angry at the neglect of understanding between them. Wherever they founded as their sanctuary they kept apart and bounced happily, always happy but something always lay amiss—_

**Two colors and two different personalities. One calm and understanding created light colored tumors which spawned like flowers out in the open fields whereas its twin chose to leave black oozing masses of destruction, often tearing the tender layers that kept everything afloat. It carried a nasty temper and disagreed with everything its twin said or did, a chemically unbalanced formula flaw in their creation of the one and only—**

_Father whom desired only the destruction of inferior beings that depended on such miracles as 'medicine' to live an eternal life. With his cells offered to humans as he programmed G.U.I.L.T to know were few and far between in their logical difference of what should and should not have been. With this in mind they ignored the way meant for them one seeking salvation in its birth and the other wailing in despair. Where one group of these flawed virus components, another followed like a herd and conflicted with the same color. Unable to win against a twin they refused to do battle with the same family of color-coded genes and opted to separate at first collision._

**Thus tumors bore from the tissue beneath them as their floor and ceiling. They themselves posed as a tumor in constant motion but never found the half-ling worthy to create a whole. Perhaps that is why the father disliked the human being so strongly, why he did what he did to survive long past the laws of time. **

_It wasn't until the host of their eternal home became over populated with strange mounds they created did they bicker and fight frequenter. Accompanied by their close cousins of identical patterns did they warp the organ into a battlefield of death and decay. Blood leaked from every part it could, rupturing as a burst of hot liquid pooling in the craters they formed._

**The original purpose to destroy man had been discarded by the father's creation. Lost and confused the virus helplessly pitted itself against its twin and fought bitterly until…it came. A wash of green liquid directed it away from the blood pool and rivalry as a savior to one and a sin to the other. As this new entity rid the home of the multiple growing balls of black and yellow it invoked the anger of the red menace. **

_Gradually the blood pools were drained and evaporated in strides, already their home looked much healthier than before their battle began. Determined to keep it the same way the blue distinguished twin hobbled from wall to wall colliding on purpose with its sibling fighting to buy this 'thing' time to save them. Each time they swirled and became one that thing---human was he?_

**Drained them. Relentlessly. The sin never let up until the mysterious weapon forced them apart weaker and darker than before. It was as if the fluids of the GUILT had been sucked away leaving only a morsel left to survive and function on. Tirelessly the two collided one after another until they formed for the first time as a whole glowing an eerie red.**

**Was it **_a blessing or a _**sin? Now whole the rivalry **_became an object of the past, nothing short of _**a jealousy never understood **_by their father. _**'It', the virus of two now one understood **_a little more of what went into their creation to destroy _**and eliminate **_humans. _**They were creatures thriving on destruction and chaos**_, penalizing the gods of disease with curative holy relics to heal _**and cheat **_the system. No matter how angry it became _**separation was not possible. **

_**As the scalpel cut deep into their contaminating vessels they shriveled against one another in an unchangeable embrace fearful as the world changed from good, to bad, to nothing at all…**_

Thus the Second Day passed…and Deftera lingered no more.

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A/N: I don't know about anyone else but aside from Pempti (the most hated guilt OF ALL EFFING TIME) Deftera gave me the second most trouble because I (being an idiot) did not know what to destroy when I encountered it. Priority wise its : Tumors, Blood, Deftera, Tumors, Blood, Hole, Syringe x50, Tumors, Blood, Deftera, Tumors, hole, and Syringe XD; Tumors being the cause of EVERYTHING. Here I tried to imagine while Kyriaki was 'birth' what were two halves of a whole (tumor)? Whenever I look at them (cute little goats) they remind me of night and day, good and evil, water and fire, and so on. So why would something split in half not seek different things? If you didn't guess (its probably hard to) the bold is the red menace and the italics is the blue one… The red is blunt while the blue is descriptive. And when together whole its both at the same time and when finally brought together its as you see it. And yeah. Wasn't too difficult but I think I lost the meaning and power behind this one –sigh- Ah well.

I can only try : ( My friend didn't give me a response on how to fix it, if it needed fixing. I changed a word of two though. Re-reading it is a great skill.


	3. Third Day

A/N: Trauma Center FTW I love the third day X3 I got an XS on it…first time strain.

Disclaimer: Don't own Trauma Center UtK or SO

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**Third Day**

(Our father lives on)

(Our father lives on)

(Our father lives on)

Thick coats of membrane in the form of an iron chain stretching in a peculiar pattern wrapped the host in fight for survival. Intelligent, the complex organism knew everything up to where it lay, restricting life from moving on. In its boundaries the very fabric of which they lay, conjoined as an inseparable force destined to forever be side by side; glued together by one long needle stabbed between four surrounding membranes. To the liver it is a disease of unspeakable terms, one which it could not fight off alone. In the time it took to notice the membrane, it had slowly duplicated itself, preventing a stalemate even though the natural order or the immunity stood ready to defect its invasion. To the neon green shapes, it came as a insult.

(Our father lives on)

(Our father lives on)

(Our father lives on)

In a language unknown to tongue and form the triangular shapes chanted to one another. Conversing it a way that it could communicate success at it bore another replica, the same as the first, but always the last. Tucked away further most inside its preferred place of habitat the neon green colors began to slowly change; like one out of the rest grew angry at its counterparts posing no indifference and thus the color grew darker than any other. The other Triti as it were named by their father, remained obsolete to their belief, while the sole start of the infection opted for change. Stabbing the three pointed corners it bled the liver, and absorbed the nutrients the body produced. Blood. Fluid. Raw calcium. All such things were taken in to the parasite, in which 'it' only feared the possibility of end when the body ran out. Fellow triangles stayed stagnant, needing nothing beyond a place to exist; yet they too realized the danger and shunned the unusually colored original fellow.

(Our father lives on)

(Our father lives on)

(Our father lives on)

A stream of light suddenly entered their domain; a harsh streak of blinding pain to which only the original gazed at perplexed. Unlike its sisters and cousins born from it, it had a mind not unlike any other. Furious it absorbed faster; a hunger growing rapidly insatiable persisting its relentless chain of actions. Murmurs came from others, cries and woes unable to be voiced all but gone as a needle became ripped out of the organ. Two needles followed this before the shapes grew dead. Pitch black to the point of no return and like the needles securing them, it soundly tore them out with careful precision.

(Our father lives)

(Our father lives)

(Our father lives)

Making more copies the intruders method grew faster, compensating each repercussion with an enthused surge of determination. 'It' only seethed upon the organ, waiting. Not knowing commands like flee; run, anything that did not require immediate copying to spread its domain it watched helplessly, but not entirely beaten. A gorging sound of another needle emitted from the bowels of the organs depths, and a strange gas fluttered out like a fully developed moth. Clumsily initiating a dawn of new life, it held preciously a fleet of its brethren forgeries. Slinking as a heavy cloud of mist it wavered side to side, imposing upon a new space to settle and start anew; thwart this evil creature that would shun the right. Nestling along the slimy exterior it had milliseconds before completing a perfected duplication when---

(Our father lives…)

(Our father…)

(Our…)

--all but vanished. Sucked up by a cylinder displaying such force it could only be sent from beyond. Though it did not carry a single trace of their father. Mourning the loss the original knew its demise was imminent. When it came down to the authentic one, the _final_ one, once flanked on all sides---Triti of the third day sucked its final vitals before removed from the void it called home.

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A/N: I need to get off my ass and get these done huh? I had a lot of trouble originally on this---and came back to it after a year and just patched it up a bit. The meaning is somewhere in their. That the Triti resents its copies; and that single blue one----augh. I can't even explain it xD;

Tetarti is a challenge to figure up some creative method of story. Its so easy and friendly compared to RAWR RAWR RAWR Pempti, ya know?


	4. Fourth Day

A/N: Going for the whole GUILT thing –wipes brow- Just a few more to go.

Disclaimer: Don't own UtK or SO or any NB and UtK2 (Though I'm only sticking to the first two for now)

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**Fourth Day**

**Purple**

'It' emerges anywhere. 'It' can be everything. 'It' has friends.

_Growing, bulging, it is a tempted bomb ready to blow. It excretes a foul gas around the gentle tissue surrounding it, providing an unnecessary irritation to the system that is naturally opposed to its existence. The teasing gas creates smaller miniature selves that do not pulse, but offer an unsightly comrade that is neither alive and beating like a active heart or dead like the damaged footprints it creates. As the captive one struggles to break its shell and stretch the legs contained; cramped in narrow quarters like an egg. It can only 'see' what is above; caked and layered in a thick pulsing diverticula, housing large amounts of gas that threaten to choke it. Air! Air! Harboring the deadly gas in its body it clumsily swipes the petty claws beginning to mature---weak, taking form like a newborn. Confused. Alone. It seeks its friends and pushes up, causing the mass outlining continue to enlarge beyond capacity. Edges on all four corners begin to peel away when the demand becomes savage and vicious, the childish tendencies morphing into an act of rational survival. Its father, one whom cooed and blessed it with a name to be called had uttered praise to do good. With one final motion the offending shell is broken. Underdeveloped still it dives below the surface to find those whose shells already remain open, excreting a discharge of poisonous gas that mirrors and replicates like a virus passed on from one to another. Swimming inside the currents it pumps its legs that cut inside the vessel like a paper cut. It is too tiny to be noticed. Its naked body fully exposed to none but the friends of a friends of a friend._

**Yellow**

Dance! Dance! 'It' will swim and dance! Fun with friends!

_All is like a sensational party amidst the blood and fluid. Stimulating an adrenaline deep in the genetic make up that screams rejoice. They swagger when grouped together. Idle apologies are not met but they find an understanding in their mindless antics and one boldly breaks free from the thick layers of tissue where they bore from. A kinship with the leader who does this is finalized, and the other colors that are never identical recognize this act as a new game which they proceed to follow. Up and up from the bowels of thick red contaminated crimson they went to reach the top, phasing through the 'ceiling' like ghosts inflicting no harm. This is home! Father programmed them to make home what they will. A raw emotion that isn't one to be defined in the sense of feeling causes the leader to be giddy and sloppily take its first steps. Throwing back its arms and swinging them hazardously in the air where its wide claws threaten to disrupt the balance delicately put together. Marching forward the strange parasite is bountiful in energy; its weird disposition ad pattern is broken up into chunks that causes it to retrace a pattern or make new ones when in close contact with its friends of different and darker colors. It cannot see them; hearing is an impossibility but it can sense and acknowledge. The appendage on its behind flicks suddenly. A searing pain that dulls the stimulus of movement causes the lighter color of the three to halt its pattern, convulsing where it prepared a half step forward. Something formidable and dangerous slides out of its back. Far too innocent it cannot fathom to comprehend. What started as a dull freezing of time escalated into pain when its symmetry companions suffered the same fate. Tied together as one---all were met with the recoil of pain. Furious it dove away, escaping what it did not wish to understand. Two more times it dived and unearthed._

**Green**

'It' fears the unknown. Threatened to act on self defense 'it' will regret.

_Green is angry. Rising up from the depths of hell again it takes no quarter and puffs out its fury. Thick clouds of green gas lace around the outer organ in a swirl of toxic fumes. Brittle already the home they made shudders under the skeletal marks raking along its surface. Restraint build of muscle in the tiny parasite is forsaken and the lines are scrawled unpleasantly, though it is small and insignificant needing no immediate attention. A shadow hovers over them and the presence of someone not their father enrages them to act irrationally and swiftly. Their legs move quicker, the hands flying every which way like a mental patient out of control. Anything becomes and enemy and the prospect of escape doesn't cross their tiny minds. Dangerous toxins filter out rapidly in three distinctive colors of yellow, green, and purple; blanketing them in a form of self-defense that it hopes to confuse the mysterious attacker whom ignores their pacified ways of co-existence. Father was right. Father was right Father was right! The trio conveyed agreement and flitted from one side of the liver to the other and back again. The whoosh of air and sickening squish of tissue stabbed instead of them gave indication that whatever impeded their destiny had yet to relent and let them be. A darting pain hit the green one when its slower friend became immobile. Another followed suit and intensified its suffering. A needle pierced it as well making it wonder how anything moved faster than they, for surely the fastest was them? Confused, angry, regretting it vanished in seconds with a pop._

**No color remained.**

'It' liked father best. 'It' liked friends. 'It' relented.

In a stream of antibiotic gel the trio Tetarti of fourth day bore no more presence.

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A/N: I kind of squashed this one down. It was hard to make it under a 1000 words. Its just a little over that. Pempti is next. I –HATE- Pempti… Granted this was pretty old. Done quite some time ago. Found it laying around -hums- I guess Pempti is next....


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